


Self-Doubt

by EmpressVegah



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, Cardverse, Low Self-Esteem, M/M, War, some description of wounds and injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2017-11-28
Packaged: 2019-02-07 23:39:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12852006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmpressVegah/pseuds/EmpressVegah
Summary: Queen Arthur thinks himself incapable of becoming the Queen the kingdom needs. Cardverse AU.





	Self-Doubt

**Author's Note:**

> A short fic from tumblr with the prompt "I'm gonna be sick" and "I'm not cut out for this" from 2015. I am so sorry!

Soldiers were lying on cots outside the medical tent. Some were groaning in pain, some were shellshocked, and some who had lighter injuries looked grim. The smell of blood and burned flesh assaulted Arthur’s nostrils, making his stomach flip. He clenched his jaw and fists to ground himself. 

A hand pressed on Arthur’s lower back, and he felt immensely grateful for the support. Sneaking a glance at the person next to him, Arthur saw blue eyes looking back, worry marring his handsome face. A sudden urge to wipe that frown away gripped Arthur so tight, it took everything in him not to reach up and touch the King’s face.

It wasn’t appropriate at all, especially when visiting their injured Spadian Soldiers. Instead, Arthur gave him a tight smile and the smallest of nods. It seemed to appease the King enough; he dropped his hand from Arthur’s back, yet not before giving a soft rub of comfort.

King Alfred of Spades stopped by each conscious soldier’s cot, asking them how they were and what else did they need. Arthur listened to their quiet talks, following around as he did his best not to gag at the nauseating smell of old, non-healing wounds, fresh injuries, sweating bodies, and antiseptic.

The King wasn’t fazed at all, so he, as the Queen of Spades, shouldn’t be, as well.

After Alfred had finished giving comfort to the wounded soldiers outside, he went inside the medical tent. Arthur quickly followed, not wanting to linger outside.

As he stepped in, the sight of far more grave injuries greeted him. Arthur took in all the chaos happening — medics and healers assisting amputations of both upper arms and lower legs, nurses tending large gaping wounds right across the chests, some soldiers had bloody gauzes covered over their head and eyes, people frantically running around to help those crying in pain yet the screams and moans of those wounded soldiers filled Arthur’s ears and the stench, the blood—

He had never experienced this before, being so sheltered and kept away from the real situation of his soldiers’ plights. Nausea came to him and he tried to swallow the bile in his throat but he couldn’t, he couldn’t take any of these anymore—

Arthur felt his knees lose their strength and he swayed dangerously to the right. “Y-Your Majesty,” he rasped, doing his best to keep a straight face despite the coldness seeping into his bones.

Alfred, conversing with the head doctor of the medical unit, stopped and looked at him. Blue eyes widened and Alfred let out an embarrassingly loud shout of Arthur’s name. The King ran to him, catching him in his arms before Arthur made a fool out of himself.

“A-Alfred, I’m going to be sick,” Arthur gasped as the sudden motion left him dizzy and breathless.

Alfred ordered a bottle of water ready and then lifted Arthur up in his arms. He carried him outside of the tent and walked away from the curious soldiers and further to where the bushes were located.

Gently placing him down, Arthur stumbled to the nearest bush and heaved, vomiting the contents of his breakfast as nausea came back full force. Alfred rubbed his back as he retched and retched until nothing but saliva came out of his mouth.

“Are you okay now?” Alfred asked with concern, still rubbing his hand on Arthur’s back. He took a handkerchief from his breast pocket and dried Arthur’s tears and wiped his mouth.

Despite the pallor on his face, embarrassment crept upon on Arthur’s face since most of the nausea was gone. Oh, how had he embarrassed the King of Spades! Getting nauseated at the sight of his own soldiers! Making a scene and vomiting outside on the bushes! He was supposed to be the Queen of Spades, yet all he did was make a fool out of himself and by extension, Alfred!

Tears pricked at his eyes and Arthur shook his head, negative thoughts swirling in his mind. How could he become the Queen the Kingdom needed when he couldn’t even stand to be with his wounded men? How could he do his queenly duties when the sight of blood and wounds made him ill? He didn’t deserve to be called Queen if he was this weak. 

Alfred grew alarmed and he held Arthur close, cupping his face and wiped the tears away.“What’s wrong Arthur? Are you still feeling sick?”

“I-I’m not cut out for this,” Arthur replied, his throat closing up as he tried to keep the sob down.

As the youngest son of the Kirkland family, Arthur wasn’t trained for combat like his older brothers. He grew up with the inclination to the arts and magic. Despite having the largest magical reserve next to the King of Spades, Arthur had no military exposure. Not even a first-hand experience of the casualties of war. 

“What do you mean?” Alfred asked again, searching those beautiful emerald green eyes he’d grown to love over the short span of time they’d been together.

“I’m not fit to be your Queen — the Kingdom’s Magic surely had made a mistake in selecting me as your Queen!” Arthur cried, fisting Alfred’s dark blue royal jacket. “I may come from a noble family line, but I am not an asset to you! I haven’t been exposed to war or know any military strategies to help you! I can’t tolerate being in the same room as the wounded since I get sick at the sight of blood! And I just embarrassed you in front of your soldiers! Is that the way a Queen should be to his countrymen, Alfred?!”

Taken aback by the outburst, it took Alfred a few moments to fully comprehend what he was really trying to say. It was times like this that he felt the difference between their upbringings, but that didn’t mean Arthur didn’t deserve to be his Queen.

“Shhh, shhh,” Alfred soothed, drying the last traces of tears from those pretty green eyes. Arthur leaned to his touch and he pulled him to his chest, wrapping his arms around his slight figure.

“Don’t put yourself down, my Queen,” Alfred began, his hand reaching up to pat Arthur’s head. “You may not have seen war or dislike the sight of blood, but it doesn’t mean that you are not fit to be the Queen of this kingdom. The Spade Kingdom’s magic believes in your capabilities to lead this country with me, that is why the chose you to be with me.”

He slowly pulled Arthur away and looked straight into his green eyes. Alfred’s face softened with affection. “You and I have different experiences, that is why we complement each other so well. I’ve been raised to lead this country and boost my men’s morale, while you are raised to harness your magic as one of the gifted Kirkland magic wielders in this country. You are also one of the most compassionate persons I’ve known, having the heart for our poor countrymen. 

Alfred smiled at Arthur, his thumb stroking his cheek. A shy yet pleased smile came to Arthur’s lips and his cheeks went red with embarrassment.

“I’m sorry,” Arthur spoke in hushed tones, truly apologetic for his outburst. It was unbecoming for a queen to cry so openly, but Alfred’s words did comfort him. He was afraid he was a useless queen, but Alfred didn’t think so at all.

“It’s not a problem. All for my darling,” Alfred gave him a cheeky smile and pressed a kiss to his forehead. Arthur’s blush went to the tips of his ears and down his neck.

The King of Spades then looked serious as he said, “I have to go back to them.” Arthur’s eyes followed his gesture towards the tent and he quickly sobered. Their soldiers were still there, wounded, in pain, and completely miserable. “Will you be all right? You can wait outside if you wish.”

Arthur shook his head, not wanting to disappoint his King and his men anymore. He was their Queen, and their Queen would be strong enough to overcome his fears. “I think I’m all right now,” he smiled back at Alfred. He took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, feeling so much better than before.

Arthur vowed to send as much help and aid needed to tend to the wounded soldiers. He could practice healing magic and train more magic users to be quick and efficient healers.

Alfred grasped his hand, and together they walked back to the medical tent.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you like it! Please tell me what you think. :'D


End file.
